


The Federal Agent's New Clothes

by omg_wtf_yeah



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Costumes, F/F, Plot What Plot, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:04:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omg_wtf_yeah/pseuds/omg_wtf_yeah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An artifact comes with a change of wardrobe and H.G. likes it quite a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Federal Agent's New Clothes

"Oh, my."

H.G. looked like the cat that got the canary and Myka was trying very hard not to notice that. "You know, H.G.– I don't think this is how this is supposed to- I feel very," she paused, searching for the words as she yanked at the blue ruffle that could only generously be called a skirt, " _exposed_."

The corner of H.G.'s mouth quirked up as she pushed off of the edge of the shelf she was perched on and walked a short circuit around Myka's rear. "That's rather the point, Myka." 

Myka rounded on H.G. and came up against a gentle hand between her breasts. Her hazel eyes widened, looking down at the hand and then up at its owner, realization dawning over her features. "Uh uh! I'm not going to be-be some pin-up for your sexual gratification, H.G.! I'm a federal agent not a—"

"Sexual object?" H.G. asked. Her grin widened, if Myka knew that was even possible. She spun Myka smoothly so the agent’s hands smacked down on the shelf in front of her and H.G.’s knee kissed the back of Myka’s bare leg, suggesting very clearly what thoughts H.G. was entertaining, never mind if someone (Pete, Artie, Claudia, _Pete_ ) were to see the two of them fooling around while they were supposed to be doing inventory. H.G. should be more concerned with winning Artie over than getting up close and personal with Myka in one of the aisles of the warehouse. Besides, she might as well be suggesting that they make out in a room full of landmines. 

"Yes, exactly. Is any of this getting through to you?" Myka asked, nodding. She swatted at the hand playing at the oversized bow at the small of her back. "Because you look—"

"Like a very lucky girl." H.G.'s brown eyes were level on Myka's when Myka looked over her shoulder, surprising in the seriousness of her look. 

A flush washed through Myka and nervousness, happiness, desire twanged in her chest and between her legs. There was no one who had that effect on her and she was still wondering why it was Helena who did. It came on her as a surprise, one she couldn't shake off. 

"And it's not just a silly pin-up costume," H.G. continued smoothly, when Myka didn't think she could handle the naked emotion anymore. She slipped a hand into the curve of Myka's waist and slid her fingers up Myka's wrist, to the curl of her hand around the cotton candy pink scepter. "It's the uniform of the Sailor Scouts and this," her fingers trailed over the scepter, sending Myka’s thoughts down all kinds of unwanted avenues, "this is called the Heart Moon Scepter." 

Myka raised her eyebrow. "Does that have anything to do with where my clothes went?" 

"The scepter reveals your strength and inner character." 

Myka clicked her tongue against her teeth. "And my inner character is...a school girl?" she asked. 

H.G. rolled her dark eyes, the game smile dropping from her face as she rolled her head on her neck as though to follow her line of vision. Myka couldn’t decide whether to feel self-satisfied with annoying her tormentor or annoyed at being, apparently, annoying. "No," H.G. said finally, "your inner character is a _warrior_."

Myka nodded her head. "A warrior school girl."

H.G. narrowed her eyes and shook her head, spinning Myka so her back kissed the shelf she stood in front of. Myka yelped and found H.G. framing her still-reeling field of vision, all sharp dark eyes and seductive smirk. Myka put her foot down, no matter how appealing H.G. might be. "I know what a school girl looks like, okay? This," she flicked at the sailor collar, "I spent three years—"

"A warrior who just happens to be a school girl." H.G. slipped a hand over the edge of the collar in question and simultaneously slid into Myka’s space. Suddenly, her legs were against Myka’s, her stomach against Myka’s, her breasts rising and falling against Myka’s with every breath. Myka was trying not be turned on by her closeness, how each brush of her breasts against her own flirted with Myka’s sensitive nipples through the white fabric of her dress. "And it’s an honor to wear it."

Myka narrowed her eyes, flushing a deep red. "Yuh huh," she replied sarcastically. 

Apparently on the trail of bigger, better things than an argument with the warehouse’s most stubborn agent, H.G.’s fingertips traced a pattern against Myka’s bare leg. Probably math or a plan for global domination. "It’s fitting, seeing as you are a warrior yourself."

Myka tried to cross her arms over her chest and bumped into the shelf behind her. "And it has nothing to do with some weird lesbian school girl fantasy you have?" When H.G. raised an eyebrow in answer, Myka snorted. She refused to be charmed by the charming eyebrow. 

H.G.’s eyes went to the ceiling, the corners of her lips curved. "Shall we call it a win-win situation?" she asked. Her fingers slipped under the ruffled skirt, playing against Myka’s thigh, and Myka shivered. 

"We should get back to work." Myka told herself that her tone wasn’t half-hearted. She was holding the Heart Moon Scepter after all – she was apparently overflowing with heart. 

H.G. chuckled against Myka’s throat and stirred the curling strands of her dark hair. Myka shuddered against her, one hand falling back on the shelf behind her and the other hovering in the air at her side. "What would be the fun in that?" H.G.’s lips brushed Myka’s throat as she spoke. 

Myka’s eyes fell shut as H.G. brushed those lips against the curve of her jaw, tracing the tendon in her throat with a lush open mouth, a hot hint of tongue. "Someone could see, H.G.," she murmured. When she closed her legs tightly, she felt the beginning ache between them run through her entire body. 

"Let them," H.G. said. She delicately licked a trail up to Myka’s earlobe and tugged her lobe between her teeth. "I want everyone to see you like this."

"In a school girl costume?" Despite her skeptical tone, Myka arched her neck to give H.G. better access. When she moved, H.G.’s breasts were crushed against hers, their supple weight pressing against Myka’s pert nipples. She pulled the bow between her breasts loose and squeezed her chest against the other woman so that the bow wouldn’t be between them. 

H.G.’s eyes were trained on the dark well of shadow between Myka’s breasts. She raised them to meet Myka’s gaze, visibly swallowing. "A warrior," she murmured, finding her footing and recalling her derailed train of thought. A change came over her face, her eyes focusing. For a moment, her features were stormy and intense. "A warrior with a pure heart." She said it like it was important, like she was giving something important to Myka in saying it, her eyes level and serious as she held Myka’s gaze. It was funny how her eyes were so dark and luminous all at once. It was funny how H.G. had a way of saying everything Myka didn’t know she’d longed to hear. 

Myka’s heart clamored at the sentiment. She decisively grabbed H.G.’s hand, twining their fingers together and, still staring into H.G.’s eyes, Myka slid their joined hands up between her legs. She guided H.G.’s hand into her panties so that H.G. could feel the wet heat of her sex, how much Myka wanted her – even then and there, where anyone might see or anything might happen. 

H.G. moaned as her fingers slid between the slick folds of Myka’s sex. "Oh, darling." Her arm brushed against Myka’s breasts as she curled her fingers into Myka. She was the one who gasped as Myka’s fingers caught in the lapel of her jacket. "I am utterly weak to your charms."

Myka’s breath hitched, her whole body jerking as H.G. stroked her with slow, assertive motions. She was drawing a pattern – a mathematic formula for dominating Myka’s better judgment. She braced her back against the shelf and spread her stance, the fabric of H.G.’s pants rough against her inner thighs. The heels of her boots chattered on the cement floor as she tried to find her footing. She shuddered and cried out as H.G.’s fingertips slipped through her slickness and pressed hard against her clit. H.G.’s free hand curled on Myka’s knee, pinning Myka’s knee to her hip as her fingers pressing deeper, coming back hard against the sensitive spot. Her fingers set a rhythm, slow and hard and insistent inside Myka, so the agent shivered and rolled her hips to meet the movement of her clever fingertips. "Helena."

H.G. met Myka’s gaze, her sloe eyes soft and intoxicated. "What is it, love?" she asked. Her eyes fell to Myka’s open lips and she stroked Myka hard, forcefully fingering the nub of Myka’s clit so Myka cried out and clutched at her. 

"I was just thinking – whatever you want," Myka said. "I’ll do it."

H.G.’s smile was pure affection. "You’re remarkable." Her smile became mischievous and she said, "On that note…" She hooked both thumbs through the elastic band of Myka’s panties and pulled them down over Myka’s bare legs, over one red boot and then the other. Myka swatted her as H.G. flourished the panties before tucking them into her jacket pocket. When she took the scepter from Myka’s hands, raising it between them, she grinned. "When you say anything…?" she asked. 

Myka blinked as she tried to make sense of H.G.’s words, still throbbing from H.G.’s fingers after she’d removed them. She scowled when the pieces fell into place. "Are you nuts? You cannot screw me with an artifact, H.G.!"

H.G. put on a look of mock hurt. "I thought you’d said anything."

"Well, yeah! That was before I knew you wanted to-to-" Myka waved her hands through the air, shaping her meaning with her hands, "shove that thing in very sensitive parts of my body! Parts, H.G., I’m very fond of!"

"Myka," H.G. rolled her eyes, "I would never suggest penetrating your dear ‘body part’ unless I was totally certain that this particular artifact is totally harmless." She sniffed in faux offense but Myka wasn’t buying it. "I’m insulted. I happen to be very fond of that sensitive part of your body myself."

"Not as fond as I am. And I guess you’d have me believe that artifact is in the warehouse as a decoration." Myka crossed her arms under her breasts and tried to hold her ground. There was no telling what the thing would do if she let H.G. have her way (it might teleport her to the Queen of England’s sitting room or something). At least, she told herself she was holding her ground. Actually, her eyes were riveted to the graceful fingers H.G. trailed over the pink rod, Myka’s slickness shining on the candy pink column. And really, while the one end was topped by a golden crescent moon with wickedly sharp points, the other end was softly rounded in a golden bauble. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if H.G. put it between her legs, if H.G. would spread her out and watch as she pushed it into her. How it would look as the slickness of her sex spread over the wand, gleaming on the flat of the hand H.G. used to do it.

Crap. Her breath was getting hot and hard again. She narrowed her eyes at H.G.. "You don’t even know what it does – apart from making my clothes vanish."

"Don’t be ridiculous, Myka. Of course I do. I was the one who recovered it, after all." She bit her lip, looking down at it. "I’ve had some wonderful times with it, if you must know."

Myka’s jaw dropped. "No way."

H.G. rolled her eyes and grasped Myka’s shoulder, pushing her back against the shelf. "Oh, don’t be a baby. You’ll like it."

"I’ll like it!"Myka scoffed. 

"I’ve already thoroughly investigated it and it's perfectly safe." H.G. grinned. "You’ll love it, darling." She slipped the rod between them, trailing the blunt, rounded end against the inside of Myka’s thigh. "We both will." Myka caught her lip between her teeth as the cool metal kissed the lips of her sex. H.G.’s fingers slipped down, parting Myka’s sex and Myka had rarely ever felt so exposed as when H.G. held her open for the rod slipping into her. 

It was hard, not pliant like the blue-green toy Myka kept in her bedside table. The toy was bendy, plastic like jelly sandals. When H.G. moved the scepter inside Myka, it was unbending, mercilessly filling her up and exciting every nerve. When H.G. rolled it in her palm, the crescent moon spinning against the cup of her palm, working the golden bulb in circles against Myka’s clit, Myka thought she’d catch fire. Okay, maybe she’d bought it a little. She cried out, spreading her legs further apart, foot catching at the back of H.G.’s knee. Her knee fumbled against H.G.’s hip, her ass against the shelf at her back, catching awkwardly on the ledge as she rocked her hips to meet the tool, to drive it in harder and faster. "Helena, please—" She heard her own voice, too loud in the warehouse, crying out as H.G. expertly worked the rod between her legs. 

Suddenly H.G. pushed Myka’s ass up onto the shelf, upsetting the artifacts and knocking a silk purse and a nineteen fifties vacuum off on the floor. They didn’t bother stopping to see what had fallen, too absorbed in what they were doing to even care as H.G. pushed Myka’s legs apart and dropped to her knees between them. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were hazy when she spread Myka’s legs. 

Myka’s breasts heaved as she looked down to see H.G. part her full lips and touch the tip of her tongue to Myka’s sex. Her breath fanned over Myka’s sex as she pushed her tongue between the folds with a hum. Myka’s knees jerked open wide, her fingers catching in the smooth strands of H.G.’s black hair as the scientist licked her way into Myka’s sex and penetrated Myka with the rod. Myka’s whole body shook as she peaked, her fingers curling in H.G.’s hair. "Helena!" she whimpered and came harder than she could remember ever doing before. The violence of her release left her spent and lax afterward, her head spinning as she caught her breath. 

She watched as H.G. impatiently dropped back onto her heels, licking her lips. In the same movement, she slid her hand into her slacks and panties (if H.G. was even wearing them). Myka was riveted to the sight of the strands of dark hair stuck to H.G.’s cheeks and the uneven motion of H.G.’s elbow as she worked her arm, fingers curling into her own slickness, the outline of her hand visible through the tight black fabric of her pants. Myka shuddered as H.G.’s dark eyes trailed over Myka’s spread legs, Myka’s heaving breasts, Myka’s heavy lips, thinking she’d be hot all over again if she hadn’t just come herself. Myka could see the motion of H.G.’s hand as H.G. curled her fingers into her sex, whining in her throat. It took no more than a few seconds before she’d worked herself to rapid climax. Myka was speechless. 

H.G. was still shuddering when Myka launched herself into her arms, smashing their lips together in a kiss. She kissed H.G.’s lax mouth over and over, fingers snarled in H.G.’s hair, tongue hot in H.G.’s mouth, hips driving against H.G.’s. 

When the frenzy had passed, Myka rested on the other woman, her fingers softly stroking H.G.’s hair and their legs twisted together. Her legs were spread for the thigh H.G. had between them, the slickness of Myka’s release streaking the other woman’s black slacks. Their chests rose and fell rapidly against each other as they cooled down. After a beat, H.G. chuckled, eyes closing and lips curving into a wide grin. She rolled her head around and opened her eyes to look at Myka. Her fingers were still laxly curled on the scepter beside her head. "What a spirited diversion," she teased. 

Myka laughed, still breathless. "You started it." She reached up, sliding the scepter from H.G.’s hand. "Now," she pursed her lips, arching an eyebrow at the scientist, " _where_ are my clothes?"


End file.
